Between Angels and Demons
by Angelic Thrall
Summary: In which Satine doubts a poet's love and finds guidance from the most unlikely of courtesans to give it. (You will enjoy, just bother to review)


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Author's Note:** If you know the song, then you'll know that by the end of this fanfic I have not used all of the lyrics, not by far. This is not because a) I ran out of ideas, or b) I thought the rest of the song was not befitting. I did this because I found the group I used at the beginning to be fine for the mood all the way through, and nothing more was needed. So why carry on when you've got what you want already? I do not claim the song, nor do I claim the characters. I do, however, claim the idea. And as always reviews would be greatly appreciated -- they keep me writing. During the conversation between Nini and Satine, try to notice the play on words and the symbolism.

_When I look into your eyes   
I can see a love restrained   
But darlin' when I hold you,   
Don't you know I feel the same?  
  
_

**Sh**e lay with her back to the window. The light was slowly pouring through as the sun came up, brightening the tops of the windmill and in turn, brightening the lives that were lived in shadows. This time though, there would be no light for Satine. There would be no sunshine to make her eyes seem brighter then the heavens or to give the allusion that her hair was spun fire.  
  
She wouldn't allow it.  
  
The tips of her fingers shook from cold and her breathing was meager, shallow and full of ice. Her lips, dried over with last night's rouge, parted to allow the ghost of life past. She was suffering and no poet's touch could heel the wounds. Darkness needed darkness, because as much as she wanted to deny it, Satine was nothing more then an angel trying not to fall. She was stumbling under the weight of a mask much too layered and a costume much too heavy for her tiny soul.  
  
It wasn't that she didn't love him. It wasn't that she didn't care. It wasn't the absinthe or the smoke of her cigarettes. It wasn't the stale aftertaste of sex and it wasn't the cheapness of his sheets. It was that he might be in love with love, or worse, she might.  
  
So when the sun finally stretched across their figures, she was quick to slip away.

**Sh**e could hear their whispers in the hallway. She could feel their glares on her back and smell their hatred as surely as one could smell the sweat beneath their clothes. But her head was high and her back straight even if her clothes were tattered and her makeup smeared.  
_  
Do they envy me still? Harold's Cherub? The forever sought after prize who fell for love and not for jewels. What a surprise._ Satine managed an acrid smile as her willowy form disappeared into the newly fashioned dressing room. A room fit for a star.   
  
In her reflection, she saw what they saw. She saw something fake.  
  
Living for love might not be worth it now.

**Th**ere was a black wolf prowling, and she had a sad blue shadow. But it was on the wolf's own accord that propelled her forward into Satine's room. Leaning against the door, exhaling the smoke from her nose, Nini was ebony against all the ivory. "You love him." She said simply, flatly. "The other girls sent me to you because we're all going to lose business if you continue to sulk over such an unworthy emotion. Better a lovestruck Star then a troubled one. So I came here to offer a token of information."  
  
Satine looked up, almost glaring. "And I would take information from such a superb liar?"  
  
"Maybe if you drank the sea when you took it."  
  
"A grain of salt is never enough with you."  
  
"You love him." Nini repeated, snarling.  
  
"I'm not allowed to love. You should know this, everyone knows this! Stop this, or you'll be spreading more lies." Her hands were shaking on the vanity table.  
  
"I may be lying, but you're fighting a war with yourself. Why not just take comfort in something you both want to believe?"  
  
"He doesn't understand. He's young, he's confusing lust for love. I'm doing us both a favor." Satine noticed before Nini that her own resolve was crumbling.  
  
"He's never scraped his knee like you have."  
  
"Get our of my room."

**Th**is might have been the first (second) time Satine had ever stayed in another's bed after sex. And this time, she let him wrap his arms around her, and she did not stray from the morning sun.


End file.
